The Blog
by JackpotGirl
Summary: The team works the case of the abduction of The German ambassodor and his wife.At first they think money is what it's all about but soon Spencer Reid thinks different.And what has the politicians blogging daughter to do with it? Reid/OFC NO SLASH!
1. Breaking The Case

Summary: The team of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit is called to Washington to work the case of the abducted German Ambassador and his wife. While they first suspect only money to be the reason, Spencer Reid soon finds out it's something else the unsub looks for. Can he put the pieces together quick enough to safe the politician? And what has his beautiful daughter to do with it all? And since when can a man fall in love with a blog-page anyway?

Set in mid 5th season...

Author's note: don't own anything...you know that, don't you?

PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks =)

**----**

**THE BLOG**

**Chapter One**

**Breaking The Case**

-Quantico, BAU-headquarters-

Dr. Spencer Reid entered the BAU-headquarters nearly an hour later than he should have. It was the first time in years that he had overslept and there had been no logical reason for it.

He had heard his alarm clock and as usual he'd turned around for a bit but this morning, different to the other mornings, his inner clock hadn't woken him after exactly five minutes but left him in bed without warning.

When he finally got up, woken by a call from JJ, he almost fell out of his bed in shock and then, after getting dressed in the dark, hurried to the bus station with his go-bag JJ had told him to have ready, not bothering to finish his second cup off sugary coffee and leave it at home before getting on the bus.

That's why he stood in the entrance of an ever so busy head-quarter, dressed in his pants from the day before and a pullover that had been fashionable in the late 40's (not that he cared much) and headed to re-fill his now empty cup.

"Hey, kid, what are you up to?", he heard Morgan from the left, "We'd almost left without you, everyone's waiting"

"I'm so sorry, I overslept, I...I...have no-", he started but was quickly cut off by Morgan's 'just-kidding'-face.

"It's alright, just get in the conference room", he said and pushed him into the direction, "We have the German Ambassador and his wife abducted and a very weird ransom demand"

"So we're going to Washington?", Spencer asked the needless question, really meaning, if he was going, too. Lately his knee had started being sore again and that bothered him as much as it annoyed him. Just when he had lost the crutches, his knee would start hurting again. It was so typical for his bad luck to kick in whenever he thought he was over the brink of being miserable. He wondered if he would ever be well again and hated himself for being so vulnerable and weak, feeling, physically, absolutely useless for the team.

"Yeah, we are", Morgan said as they walked down the narrow corridor leading towards the conference room from which Spencer could hear his colleges discuss wildly. At least he wasn't staying here alone with Garcia. He loved her as a colleague but it was irritating to be someone's 'bitch' as she would put it. When he was with her, in her computer-kingdom, he was just a twenty-seven year old school-boy to a tech-nerd-teacher that knew a lot more on the subject than him, and he wasn't used to being the person that didn't know more than everybody else.

"-put us in charge", he heard Hotch declare, ending his trail of thoughts.

"Exactly", agreed Rossi to something Spencer hadn't caught.

"But if this goes bad, _we_'ll be the bad guys. Why don't they send their people here?", Emily said when the two agents entered.

"Sorry, I'm late, I have no idea why, I-", Spencer said in the doorway but was shut up yet again by Hotch.

"Emily, you can't be serious, the government of _our_ country granted him and his family safety, he got abducted from his home that is in _our_ country by one of _our_ citizens, of course this is _our_ call, because we are in charge here, no more discussions on that matter"

So Emily had wondered why they hadn't people from the German Intelligence Service on the case, Spencer figured as much. But Hotch was right. This was their responsibility and now he also knew why everyone was on their feet. This was a matter of international politics, the FBI's hour to shine or to embarrass itself in front of the world. JJ would need a lot of patience to deal with all the upcoming questions. Everyone would have to say something about that case. The news, the foreign bureaus and most definitely the president, himself. So it was hard to investigate, clearly under the spotlight of the world and the stakes for the bureau and the whole country were even higher. If they lost a foreign politician, it would both put the FBI and the entire government of the United States in a filthy place they didn't want to be.

Spencer felt that he had been given extra weight that second, with this huge responsibility on his teams back. But he shouldn't be worrying about society's reception now and he wouldn't. This was about two innocent people being held captive. He needed to focus on the facts, now as JJ started to brief the case to the team.

"So, reports have it that Mr. Hansen and his wife have been last seen in a restaurant two days ago, they've arrived at home were their teenage son Michael was waiting for them. They had a cup of tea and talked for about an hour. We estimate the unsub got into their house during that time, waiting for them, too. Four security men were patrolling the property and the police later found two dead at the back door, so the unsub got his way around the patrols but couldn't get past the guards at the back door. This means we can rule out all other guards or familiar persons to the family. Inside he has killed a house-maid and locked three others into a room to find the family unprotected. Ten minutes later, Mr Hansen drove up in his car and got past the guards at the property entrance gate. His wife sat beside him and we think the unsub was in the back, threatening him with a gun most likely, to drive in order to get away from the building."

"What about the boy?", Emily asked.

"When the patrols came near the back door about five minutes after Mr. Hansen had driven off, they'd seen their dead colleges and rand the alarm.

Inside they found Michael Hansen severely beat up and out of conscience with a note in his hand saying: 'I want 80 Million Dollars in cash and a helicopter or Mr. Hansen and his wife are dead. Tell my pirate princess I'm coming to rescue her'"

Spencer found himself fighting a chuckle, this really was a weird ransom demand.

"Who's _his pirate princess_?", he asked trying hard not to sound amused.

"We have no idea", answered Hotch, "but we are pretty sure that-"

And this time it was Spencer's turn to cut him off, "-she is the key to finding him"

Hotch nodded.

"The plane is leaving in fifteen minutes, see you then", JJ said and everyone got up from their seats.

Spencer took his time. This was nothing unusual, a kidnapping for money, the remarkable thing was how the unsub had gotten into the house so easily.

This would be a hell of a Washington visit and Spencer didn't really look forward to it. He wasn't at all good with attention, he remembered vaguely how it had felt back then in L.A., when everybody thought he was Hollywood-newcomer Lila Archers new boyfriend (which he wasn't) and remembered it to be awkward, annoying and for the most part embarrassing. He hated having his every move observed just as he despised to be in the spotlight. But that was just what was going to happen. It probably wouldn't make it easier to save Mr. and Mrs. Hansen.

The plane left Quantico at twenty past ten am, taking the team to their most media-effective case yet.


	2. A Vision And A Revelation

**THE BLOG**

**Chapter Two**

**A Vision And A Revelation**

-on the plane to Washington D.C.-

Spencer returned from the on-plane, shaky toilet and sat down on his usual seat, observing the others for a short moment. JJ was on the phone, probably with Will, her babies-father, telling him that she was yet again gone to solve a case, Hotch was studying the case files, Rossi had his eyes closed but Spencer was pretty sure that he wasn't sleeping and Emily and Morgan were playing cards and it looked like Emily would win. Morgan didn't like it much.

Reid couldn't help the yawn that crept over his face. This late start had thrown him off balance, he had even put his wrists under the ice-cold water from the rest-room sink because that normally brought back the life to him but the act didn't do its deeds and he figured that he would need a lot more coffee to survive this day. Probably his body was just trying to tell him how he didn't want to be involved in this case. All the attention, all the pressure. He wasn't a fan of these circumstances to do his job.

"Hotch?", he brought his body up to have free sight and saw Hotch reluctantly looking up from the files, "the boy, Michael, has he talked yet?"

"He's not gotten back to conscience, I fear. The unsub did a good job, cerebral trauma, damage to the spine...he sure didn't know what he was doing but he did it well", Hotch answered, his lips thin with disapproval.

"Could you do a quick preliminary analysis of the handwriting on the demand?", the dark haired man asked handing him a copy of the thing. Nodding, Spencer took him and processed what he saw. He started talking almost immediately.

"There's a big difference between the first part, the one where he threatens to kill Mr. Hansen and the part with the princess. The first sentence is written quickly, you can tell by the way the letters are linked together. The princess-part is wider, the letters fewer connected, he took more time on writing this. It might be that the second part is the essence of the whole thing, his original cause, I just don't see why. Why would he address someone in the ransom demand if he should except the only one to read it are policemen? Apart from that I think it's ave to say that he doesn't want to make a political statement of it. If he did he would call the victim 'The Ambassador' or something else pointing out his political status or role, also he didn't directly address the government, neither the US, nor the German, to pay the money, he just put it there and the second part is personal, it's about someone he knows"

"You think so?", Morgan, who had started paying attention to him halfway through his analysis wondered, "What if 'pirate princess' stands for a country or a person, someone the Germans have imprisoned? Or a country Germany is with war at?"

"Germany is semi-officially at war with Afghanistan but rather calls it a 'peace-mission', Afghanistan is surrounded by desert and is in no published book or text a linked to something as pirates. And since 2004 they are a democratic republic, so there should be no princess around", Spencer mused, "this is nothing political. _Pirate Princess_ must mean something special to him but it's not Afghanistan. To me, it's a money thing. Simple as that, the princess-thing is weird...but 80 Millions..."

"This guy smells money", Emily added

Nevertheless, Morgan was on the phone now.

"Hey, baby girl, could you please check for me if Germany has any foreign prisoners that are somehow linked to piracy or that are some way linked to the term '_Pirate Princess_'?"

"Sure, my vision", Spencer heard Garcia answer Morgan's question, muffled by his team-mate's cheek.

He was wasting Penelope's time, Spencer thought but couldn't blame Morgan, he always had his own theories and always hoped that he would be right over Reid. Sure, they were also great friends and he would trust Derek Morgan with his life but ever since they had been teamed up together there had been this silent, subtle rivalry. Morgan didn't like how Reid 'knew everything' and always wanted to prove that the little genius-kid wasn't the only smart-head on the team. Spencer had never wanted to claim to be the smartest and he'd never been overly competitive, it was just his character to correct misinformation, misunderstandings or generally wrong statements. He couldn't help it and Morgan always took it as a challenge when Spencer happened to correct him. And just as every time before, Morgan's mouth twitched just so slightly at his colleagues constructive critique on his Afghanistan-theory.

Spencer knew that he wasn't really angry with him, he was just annoyed. But then again, Spencer thought, brains was the only thing he had a bit more off, probably; in every other discipline, Morgan would kick his weak ass. He was faster, stronger and, needless to say, of course way better with the ladies. The only time Spencer had ever flirted with success was after Derek had told him exactly what to do. He told him to do a magic trick and it worked, a pathetically simple magic trick he had picked up when he was seven had earned him the telephone number of a gorgeous waitress. A magic trick, he thought again, and if I ever try to really talk to a girl, it's a complete catastrophe.

Whenever Spencer Reid met a girl he found interesting it was elementary school all over again. His palms became sweaty, his hands started shaking and the lingual centre of his brain quit duty. If he managed to say anything at all, it was statistics and those recited in about fifteen octaves higher than his normal speaking voice. It was pathetic. No wonder he never got a date. Not a real one at least. There'd been Lila, but she was a victim, he was supposed to protect. The incident where she pulled him in the pool and kissed him couldn't be counted as a date, even if Spencer had wanted to. And as for the waitress, they had held contact for a while but it was rather pointless as she didn't live in Quantico or anywhere near and Spencer wasn't the type for a long-distance relationship, he thought. He couldn't be sure, he'd never had one. He'd in fact never had a real relationship for a start. Again he didn't count Lizzie, a nerdy but pushy fellow chemist back in college, that invited him to a party and then to her bed (she would later call it 'picked him up') and took his virginity at age sixteen. Since then he'd had a few attempts to have a girlfriend, with medium success and the years he hadn't had sex he could count with one whole hand. Morgan would never have to spent five years without sex, that was sure.

Spencer guessed he was okay with it, he didn't miss anything, not the sex part at least. When it had happened in the past it had always been rushed and awkward and he didn't really see the appeal, apart from the fact that it, well, did feel good in a way. But it wasn't at all how most people saw it, something magical, a bounding experience or a transcendental way to get to know your partner.

No, sex had never been like that to him, so there was not much to miss that he couldn't replace by one hands work. But he missed other things, things that one hand could never replace.

He missed affection, and not the kind of affection his colleagues, his friends, felt for him, not the friendly affection; no, the real thing, love. And reassurement, appreciation, not as a profiler, not as a good person but as a _man_. He missed feeling wanted, needed for anything more than his brains and for doing his job. He was lacking someone who entirely knew where he was coming from, some one who understood him without words, someone that wasn't torn away by his awkwardness. Someone that could make him stop being afraid. Normally when a girl got too close, she repulsed him eventually because she wasn't right, didn't really understand him, or maybe she was okay but he didn't feel right. He felt like he needed to run because it was all too much for him. As much as his brain was quick and functionary with everything theoretical, it malfunctioned when it came to emotions. And so far there hadn't been a girl to break the spell.

"Hey Spence", he dimly heard JJ call him through the mist of thoughts occupying his head, "you dreaming?"

She smiled wryly and he knew that she asked herself what he was thinking. JJ was like a sister to him, a sweet sister that never stopped trying to figure him out.

"I'm a bit tired, I usually don't oversleep", he half lied in reply. He really needn't tell her that he thought about his girl problems.

"Well, we'll arrive in a bit, just get your stuff ready", she said.

"Hey Reid", Morgan said, "Me, JJ and Hotch are going to see the local police, Rossi and you are going to pay the son a visit in the hospital, see if he woke meanwhile"

Just when Morgan had finished, Spencer felt the plane shake a little and the common movements, rumblings and noises of landing flooded his senses. He had no problem with flying but take-off and landing never ceased to freak him out. Knowing the statistics, that more people died in car-accidents than on a plane didn't help him much.

They arrived at the hospital about half an hour after the plane had set on the solid ground. The weather in Washington was slightly better than it had been in Quantico. It wasn't raining and from time to time the sun broke through the small holes in the clouds. Typically for fall, he thought and his mood brightened when he thought about Halloween coming up. He always felt like a jolly five-year-old when October was finally there. He'd always loved Halloween.

The hospital wasn't too big, you couldn't get lost in it, that was for sure but it had just the smell hospitals had. A smell Spencer despised. It reminded him of so many unpleasant things; his mother after an episode where she managed to cut herself with a kitchen knife, tubes all over her face; himself after killing Raffael Hankel and Tobias along with him; himself after nearly dying from Anthrax; himself after being shot in the knee by a grieving father seeking revenge; Penelope after being shot, Hotch after being shot,...no, the hospital wasn't a nice place for Spencer Reid. The only happy thing that ever occurred in a hospital was the birth of his god-son Henry, JJ's and Will's child.

Through a cloud of disinfection-spray-smell, the two agents entered the second floor from the elevator and went for the receptions desk and as Spencer had never been good doing the talking, Rossi took the lead.

"Hello, I'm Agent Rossi, this is Agent Reid, with the FBI, we're looking for Mr. Michael Hansen", he said holding up his batch, with Spencer quickly doing the same.

The receptionist eyed them briefly and then sighed, "Just go down the corridor, last door up to the left, but last time we checked, he wasn't awake. His sister just arrived, though, she should be there with him, so maybe he woke up now there's a familiar voice"

With that she let them go and Spencer followed his fellow agent to the last room on the left.

"The have a daughter? How did I miss that?"; Rossi asked while walking.

"It's not really important for the case, is it? Her name is Louise, 19 years, a college freshman in Dartmouth, an English Literature major", Spencer recited from his memory, she had been mentioned in one of the files, Hotchner had went over on the plane.

"Well, I think we should integrate her into the investigation, she might have some thing to say to our negotiations with the unsub, I mean, that's her parents in hostage", Rossi said as they had almost reached Michaels room.

"And maybe she can tell us about her families enemies...maybe she can even tell us who or what the Pirate princess is", Spencer added just before Rossi turned the doorknob around.

The sight that welcomed the two was more than irritating. A teenager, 15 years of age, as Spencer remembered lay in the hospital bed, wired to at least three machines that were buzzing and humming and keeping him alive. The boy himself was beat up massively, one side of his face patched together, poorly hiding the horror it had seen. He was definitely in no state to talk.

The second they entered, the figure at the other side of the room raise to her feet and opened her mouth to snub at the intruders or question the doctors.

The light was dim, so it took a while for Spencer's eyes to adjust and the equivalent while for his throat to cord up. The view took his speech at once. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, she rather looked like she had sat behind the wheel for a while and been fighting sleep, her dark brown hair tied up in a more than messy knot and her puffy eyes staring accusingly over to the two men, but there was something about her. Something that pushed a button inside Spencer's brain. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, if you considered common measures of beauty, but she was exceptionally beautiful to him and that was the whole problem. Her wide cheekbones, giving her goldilocks-cheeks, a pointed nose on top of a set of round lips and even though she wasn't smiling now, he could see the hint of dimples. And then her eyes, deep, warm brown eyes that were red from crying, piercing him across the distance, had sure seen more laughter than tears in their life. Her eyes had taken him aback. Always when this happened he reflexively took a step back, stared down on the floor, up to her again, down again, his stomach twisting with an overwhelming shyness, the urge to run and the urge to vomit. All first-crush in high school over again, every time. Why did this have to happen now?

And it had happened before, every now and again. It did with Lila and a couple more afterwards, he could deal with it. He _had_ to deal with it. He was just a little bit dumbstruck, it would wear off and then he would do his job accurately, he told himself, again wincing internally about how pathetic he was.

"Sorry, Miss Hansen, we're with the FBI, we're investigating the abduction of your parents", Rossi said, apparently ignorant to Spencer's struggle.

She took a deep breath, more to calm herself down than to actually breath, Spencer estimated and looked at them again, as if she tried to read off their faces that they were not lying to her.

"It's about time", she finally said and decided it was safe to step up to the agents.

As she approached them, with the air of her movement blowing her flowery, natural female scent over to Spencer's nostrils, he unconsciously did two things at once; hold his breath and take another step back. An outside spectator would have to believe that he was scared of her. Well, he was in a way. _Get a hold of yourself_, he ordered himself but unconvincingly.

"I got a call from the police one and a half days ago, I started driving up here from Dartmouth this morning and this entire time, no one tells me what's going on. The police officer that came here earlier couldn't tell me much, he was as good for information as the TV. So, I really hope for your health and my sanity that you are here to give me some answers", she ranted the second she stood in front of them, she was searching for Spencer's eyes but as he was still switched from his shoes to her face, she decided it was safer to direct her speech at Agent Rossi, who let her finish patiently.

"We will sure tell you everything we know, if you'd be so kind to answer some of our questions", he said.

"Shoot", was her curt reply.

"Are you aware of any enemies your family might have?", Rossi said, following the typical protocol for those occasions.

"None that I could think of, I already told the police officers. My Dad was not a man to make enemies. Being German you always have to be extra cautious not to piss anyone off around here. You know, if all else fails you're the Nazi. You wouldn't believe how many people asked me if Hitler still lived in Berlin, when I tell them I'm German So, my Dad tries to avoid any complications. Making sure no one feels the need to bring 'icky subjects' on. I always tell him he's being pretty spineless but then again, I don't have the reputation of an entire nation to protect"

"So, no enemies", Rossi closed. She was pretty talkative, this one, Spencer thought and dared to look at her for a little longer, hoping it secure as she had her eyes locked on Rossi.

"None that I could think of", she repeated.

"Have your parents mentioned something unusual happening lately? Something weird?"

"No, we...we haven't talked in a while. I've been pretty busy. No one cared to call me much, if there had been something really exceptional or if they'd been threatened, I'm sure they would've let me know. But...no...no one mentioned a thing to me"

She felt excluded, separated from her family, Spencer couldn't help the profiling, his poor brain held on to the only normality it knew. Did this make her a suspect? He looked at her closely again. It was hard to imagine that she was in any way involved in this but he couldn't let his freak feelings overshadow his professional judgement.

But she didn't act suspicious, she was tired, exhausted, angry and sad, a bit desperate, devastated when she looked over her shoulder to check on her little brother. She did it every ten seconds or so. She was worried about him. No, she had nothing to do with this. Every time she saw him, her whole body crunched slightly; it pained her. She couldn't have been involved in something that did this to her brother.

"Okay, that was it so far, thank you for your assistance. Now, how can we help you?", Rossi used his calming voice, he must've noticed how much she worried, too.

"I just want to know what the hell is happening and why it has to be my family...we never did a thing to harm any one", her voice broke ever so slightly before she got hold of herself again, keeping composed. She also didn't like displaying weakness, Spencer figured.

"All we know the kidnapper found his way around the security-staff and forced your parents to drive him away from the property, there's no GPS tracks of the car, so we don't know where he took them. He left your brother in the house after he put him in this state with his ransom demand", Rossi answered calmly.

Her face flinched a couple times through his statement, at the words 'forced' and 'left your brother in this state', she took a beat before talking again.

"How much does he want?", she asked.

"80 Million Dollars", at that her jaw dropped.

"From whom?"

"He didn't specify", Rossi looked at her fiercely, as if he was trying to catch the blow she took with his stare alone.

"I don't have 80 Million Dollars", she whispered and her body seemed to have lost all stability, she reached out blindly for the end of the bed and grabbed nothing twice before she held on to the bedpost tightly to steady and support her.

"Miss Hansen, I can promise you, we will give it our all to safe your parents"

"Thank you", she said under her breath but didn't look up from the floor, "has he called you yet? Tell you until when he wants the money?"

"Not yet, we will momentarily inform you, when it happens", Rossi reassured her and she just nodded weakly.

Spencer just stood there. Something had cracked loudly inside of him when she lost her composed posture. It hurt him to see her suffer like that, to see her features darkening, the glim of hope weakening in her eyes. He felt sick, both because of her sate and the fact that he felt that way about it. He really needed to get it together.

"Reid, I'm going to talk to his doctor about the beating, maybe that'll tell us something for the profile", Rossi said quietly to Spencer, turning away from Louise.

Spencer wordlessly followed until-

"Why don't you ask her about the princess-thing?", he held the lanky guy back, putting his open palm against his shoulder. Spencer felt his face grimace something expressing protest.

"I know she's pretty, but you can't shy away from questioning the pretty girls for the rest of your life, kid", he whispered for only Spencer to hear who knew he was right. After the faintest hint of Spencer's hesitant nod, Rossi left the room and him with the girl.

He stood there a couple of heartbeats in silence and tried to search his brain for the function of his mouth and how speaking worked.

"Anything more, quiet boy?", she asked after another couple of heartbeats, resigned, eyeing him tiredly.

"Um...uh...my name is Spencer", he corrected her automatically and the next second,wanted to hit his head against something solid at the stupidity of that remark.

"Anything more, Spencer?", she repeated just as tired and hopeless as before.

"Um...the...uh...the ransom de-demand of the unsub, it said: 'Tell my Pirate Princess I'm coming to rescue her'...does that ring a b-", he stopped mid sentence when he saw her freeze on the spot, her face became white as a sheet and she looked a little like she would get sick every moment, "Louise? It's okay, what does it mean?"

A new wave of fear shattered the girl and Spencer just as much when he saw it happen to her, tearing her apart, even if he hated to admit. But it obviously did ring a bell, Spencer just wondered which.

"That's...that's...", now she stuttered, as if saying it pained her, she seemed to be disbelieving in face of the revelation, afraid of what it meant, "Pirate princess is my screen name...my blog...it's......"

Spencer's head was spinning momentarily. They had a trace to the unsub now, and it was a different one than expected.


	3. Musings Of A Maiden

**THE BLOG**

**Chapter Three**

**Musings Of A Maiden**

-Georgetown University Hospital, Washington DC-

"...it's...my blog...", Louise still stuttered, scared and with wide eyes as if she'd just hit a brick wall, Spencer had his eyes locked on her while his fingers found their way blind on his cell phone.

"Rossi", he yelled into the corridor and hoped the urgency in his voice would come through.

Meanwhile Louise was clinging to the bedpost, holding on to it as if it was the only thing to hold her up straight.

"It's okay", Spencer whispered, his phone on dial, "Louise, it's okay, I need you to tell me the link to your blog"

"What?...Um...it's '.com'", she stared at the wall opposite to her, tears springing up in her eyes. A steady 'toot toot' coming from Spencer's phone added to the sound scape of the machines surrounding her little brother.

"Hello, truth seeker", after the third of a second, Garcia had picked up the phone, "you've reached the headquarters of know-it-all, spill and be heard"

"Garcia, can you get me everything on the blog-page '.com'? I need every entry, every comment, every picture, everything", he said quickly while taking a tiny step towards Louise who didn't seem to be holding up for much longer. She looked up and he nodded at her, giving her the most consoling look he was capable of.

"It'll be on your computer in a second, wonder-boy", the tech-assistant said and he could hear her work her magic fingers over the keyboard.

"Thank you so much, bye", he said and hung up the phone.

"Is this my fault?", Louise whispered now that he stood there again, unsure what to do. Every strain muscle in his body wanted to reach out for her, to hold her, to make the wrinkles on her forehead go away and make her stop crying. He felt a need from way deep inside to pull her close, hold her tightly and not let go until it was all well again, when it was safe again for her to be without protection. But the again, these feelings confused him, normally he would feel the need to console but with words, not with touching, not with holding. This wasn't right. She was just a kid and she was a victim, he shouldn't be feeling how he felt.

"No, no, it's not your fault", he said, his voice down but certain. Too bad it wasn't certain enough to stop her from crying, "why don't you sit down"

She nodded mechanically and slowly went back to the couch, sinking down as if her tiny body weighed tons.

"Spencer", she sighed as she let her head sink into her hands. Automatically Spencer held his breath yet again, the way she'd said his name was something he could swear (and he knew it was rightful to swear because he couldn't be wrong with an eidetic memory) he had never heard before. It was so full of need, urge, it was a "Save me from falling" put in his name and it was so powerful – he didn't know how he mustered the courage or how his legs had deceived his rationality so quickly – he was at her side momentarily, kneeling in front of her on the floor, closer than he had been to any woman in a long time and found himself whisper to her.

"It's going to be alright, it's not your fault, it's okay, Louise", he had no idea where to put his hands, he was too afraid to touch her but then again he wanted to which caused his hands to spasm; once reaching out then stopping and going back to his body again then attempting to reach out. There were currently too many emotions in him to function. He needed to regain control, over himself and over the situation and the only way to do that was...facts. He needed facts so he could do his job.

"Has someone contacted you through the blog? Did anything outrageous happen lately?", he said and he could hear her think, her head went up and she looked at the ceiling, into the left corner, which meant she was remembering hard.

"No, no one contacted me, I don't-", she stopped, looked at Spencer for a split second full of terror that let the blood in his veins freeze and then sucked in air, affright, "oh god"

"What? Tell me what you remember", Spencer said, now so hooked and eager to put the pieces together, he reflexively put both his hands on her knees.

"There was something weird", she said decisive, "there was this guy that...he commented on almost every single entry I made, at first I was really flattered but...like...three weeks ago, the comments got kind of weird, he...he said I needed a knight, someone to save me and if he could he would...run away with me or something"

"Okay, Louise, I think you might just found the unsub", he said encouraging but she took it the wrong way.

"What good does it do? This is all happening because of me, there wouldn't be an unsub, whatever that even means, if I hadn't...", her voice broke as a new shred of tears took over and she sobbed quietly.

"What is it, Reid?", Agent Rossi had just come back and stood in front of the now open door.

"_She_ is the pirate princess, she blogs...this is as personal as it gets", Reid said over his shoulder and then, directed at Louise, "What's the guy's name?"

"Something with an 'R'...Ryan...no...Ralph, it's Ralph", she answered in between sobs.

"Thank you", he said getting up, "if there are any questions, can we contact you?"

"I'm not going anywhere", hopelessness dripping from her lips, "the police people have my digits"

Spencer stood straight, looking down at her, she seemed so tiny, so vulnerable underneath him, "I promise we're doing our best to save your parents"

He hesitated, but then he put one hand lightly on her shoulder, hers was on top of his in the next second. His heart stooped beating for the blink of an eyes when she squeezed it gently.

"Thank you", he breathed and they both let go. Spencer was out the door in no time but not without looking back, back at this figure, this beautiful girl. It was so confusing. Lila all over again, only...only this time it felt rooted so much deeper.

"Transference", he mumbled to himself, "transference"

"Excuse me?", Rossi said, two paces behind him.

"Nothing", he replied curtly, "We have to find this Ralph-guy"

-Washington DC Police Department-

Spencer Reid and David Rossi were welcomed by a bunch of photographers, cameras and news reporters – all the things Reid hated. They hurriedly pushed through the rude yelled questions and people standing in their way and rushed to get to their colleagues.

"It's madness outside", Reid caught from inside and supposed Emily had said it.

Morgan spotted them first and lunged towards them once they entered the busy station.

"Garcia called, so we have the pirate princess, good job", he said as 'hello', "The blog's on your computer, kid, it's best if you go through it, it's a lot of text...so do your 20.000 words a minute thing, be genius"

"Yes, sir", said Spencer and got straight to work. He saw his laptop closed on a desk and sat down, opened it and while waiting for it to wake up, he looked around. JJ didn't seem too happy, she hurried around talking to people, Morgan, Hotch and Rossi were discussing and Emily was talking to a police officer.

The all common Windows-start-up jingle sounded tinny from Spencer's laptop and the plastic thing had all his attention, and there it was, the link to the blog in a new e-mail Garcia had sent over.

He couldn't help but smile at what he saw, the header of the page was a colourful photoshoped picture with flowers and a _Starbucks_-cup and in the middle he saw how Louise looked when she was smiling. She did have dimples and even through the pixels on the screen, her eyes looked stunning, so lively and enthusiastic. This look on her face eased some of the tension inside of him, only to come back even heavier. She wouldn't be looking like that for a while and he wasn't supposed to care so much. He scrolled down the page and tried to ignore the bad feeling in his stomach when his eyes found the latest entry.

_Musings of a Maiden_

_Well, we all know I'm no maiden but then again, I'm so freaking alone you could come to think I was. I know I shouldn't be whining about that because, honestly, who cares? But this is my blog, so I'll do it anyway. _

_I'm sick of being alone, I'm sick of going to bed alone, sick of waking up alone and so sick of no one caring about it. _

_I just wonder why this keeps happening to me, you know, whenever I meet a guy that I really like, he either isn't interested or taken or both or gay or half eaten by a crocodile...it's annoying. And at the end of the day there's just that one question: If that keeps happening, it can't be their fault, right?_

_I mean, it has to be me then, doesn't it?_

_Is it that I ask to much? That my standards are too high? I don't believe that, I'm not overly high maintenance, all I want is someone with ambition, someone smart, that finds his way around in life, someone that can teach me thing and make me smile – that's not to much to ask!_

It went on for a while and Spencer read every word, every word that seemed to be so inaccurate, she just couldn't be serious. How would a girl like her be lonely? How would a girl like her not have a handful of guys wanting to bring her the moon when she just whistled.

Oh well...she had one that wanted to bring her 80 Million Dollars, he sighed. Seconds later he was done with her second entry, this time it was a book review. The next was entitled _100 Things That Brighten Up My Day_ and all the following were just like this one. Very personal, open, funny, thoughtful, witted. Halfway through he felt like he'd known her all her life. Also profiling her came automatically with reading it, when he finished he knew that she was committed to loved ones, her work, her studies, ambitious, extremely extroverted and generally optimistic, she occasionally made mean jokes about herself which showed that she did have some self-esteem issues although you wouldn't notice when first meeting her. Normally she was loud and quiet the talker, as Spencer had guessed earlier, she had also a deep rooted understanding of love as the strongest and most important force, she hated intolerance, fascism and any kind of violence...and spinach, but who could blame her?

_Sometimes I look at the people on the bus, the way they stare into blankness and they always seem incredibly sad or hostile, closed up. Even if they're probably not, they still look like it. I wonder if that's just a way_ _of keeping everyone else at bay. As if you're vulnerable everywhere you go. Isn't it sad to be living in a world like that? Or isn't it the world, is it the people? I sometimes make a game of it to just seek their eyes and smile at them, just smile. I'd say half the time they look back at me as if I had a mental disorder and half the time they smile back. And if they smile back, it feels like a very own victory. I'd suggest you try it...for one day, just smile at everyone who catches your eye. It feels really good..._

It was unfair, that someone like her had to got through something like this, she didn't deserve this pain, she should be smiling at people, she should be happy.

But he couldn't be wasting everyone's time now, brooding over the unfairness of life, he had an unsub to profile so he focused on the comments. And just as Lou (he always thought 'Lou' now because that was how she signed her posts) had said, Ralph had commented on nearly every article, the early ones with just a word, always in capital letters.

_BRILLIANT. FUNNY. GENIUS. BEAUTIFUL._

The first longer comment had been posted a few months ago.

_I KNOW HOW IT FEELS. IT WILL BE ALRIGHT. SOMEDAY A SHINY KNIGHT WILL COME AROUND AND SAVE YOU!_

Quiet a funny way to save someone, Spencer thought bitter.


	4. A Late Night Visit

**THE BLOG**

**Chapter Four**

**A Late Night Visit **

-Washington D.C. PD-

"Reid?", Hotch called for him from a short distance, "Garcia has some information on Ralph for you, she's on the phone, line 2"

Reid nodded, not looking up from the glimmering screen and reached for the phone.

"What can you tell me?", he asked the tech-queen.

"His full name is Ralph Andrew Beckett, he turned twenty-one last months, he's been treated all through his childhood in several facilities for delusional behaviour. He'd been considered healed and he's a local in D.C., and Reid, his mother died of cancer two months ago, there is no father listed anywhere"

"That could be the trigger", Spencer estimated, "Garcia, could you find where he is situated?"

"I already did, honey-pie, through his IP, it's always saved when someone posts a comment on Lou's blog"

"You read her blog?", he knew when she called her 'Lou' but he had no idea what so ever why he asked that question immediately as supposed to 'So, where does he live?' but obviously his brain still wasn't working right; he seemed to need a good nights sleep so bad, he wasn't himself any more.

"Of course I did"; Garcia answered his absolutely exiguous question, "she's a pretty awesome person, I was laughing tears at time, the poor thing, and this Ralph is a creep. 'We'll run away together and the ocean-"

"-will caress your feet as my heart will caress your entity'", Spencer completed Garcia's quoting of Ralph from memory, frowning his brow, "where does he live?"

"He lives in Arlington, 22 S. Gleebe Road", Garcia replied immediately. So he was a local, which meant he could have the possibility of spying out Lou's family and possible hide-out-spots. But he still had no link to Louise other than the weird comments, that wasn't enough to nail him down. Her blog was public, every one could have read it and maybe even used her over-the-top-admirer as some sort of disguise. Get the money and get away with it, because, with the ransom demand linked to Lou's blog, police would suspect Ralph. Nevertheless Spencer was sure about Ralph being the unsub; the things he wrote her spoke a clear language but not clear enough to pass in front of court.

"Can you cross-reference him with Louise?", he asked, desperate to find another connection and again he heard Garcia run over her keys. Seconds later he heard her catch her breath.

"He's been a senior when she came to High School here, to the same High School, he knew her"

"Weird, she didn't mention knowing him", Spencer mused when he processed the information.

"Well, there's gotta be more Ralph Becketts out there, plus who says they really _knew-knew_ each other, don't you think the guy's more the-"

"-admiring-from-a-distance-kind, you're right, she probably won't recall who he is, they weren't in the same grade", he completed yet another sentence of hers.

"So, I need you to repeat this to the rest of the team, you're on speaker", he informed her quickly after pushing the loudspeaker-button on the phone.

-University Hospital-

Louise Hansen had not seen a worse day in all her life. And there she had always been whining around about her non-existent love life, about the unfairness of life in general, her stupid freckles or the fact she was always so ghostly pale no matter how many hours she spent in the sun. It all seemed so meaningless, so pathetic now. She's had everything. Even if she had always wished to be closer to her Dad and even more often despised the decisions he made on his job – the reason for many fights in the Hansen-household when she was still living with her family – she still knew they were well and nothing threatened them. She was just like any other girl that sometimes had quarrels with their parents. Perfectly normal. Nothing was normal any more. What would she give to have her tan as her only concern at the moment.

Also, her sometimes-grudge against her father seemed like the biggest assault she'd ever made. Every inch of her body was tense, her soul was drenched in pain and guilt, it radiated through every limb and no matter how hard she tried to make it go away, it wouldn't fade. This was all her fault. Her parents could be dead already as much as she knew and she was solely to blame for it.

No matter what the FBI-guy – Spencer – no matter what he'd said. The person that took her family and abused her poor brother like that, he'd done it because of her. Because of this stupid blog. If she hadn't felt the need to share her insignificant thoughts with the whole world everyone would be perfectly safe now. Why had she always been so eager to be recognized? And with an even more painful stroke of remembrance through her brain, she recalled how flattered she had been at first by Ralph's comments. That was of course before he had started about eloping with her and carrying her through rich flower fields. She'd known that something was off about it, surely, everyone would have known that but she didn't consider it important. She should've talked to someone about it. She of all people had a staff of security people just a phone call away but she didn't even think about it, no, because she was a stupid kid, just the stupid little girl she'd always been, always unsuspicious, always happy-go-lucky with her head in the skies. She'd never expected to have to pay such a price for that. Once again she wondered how she had deserved this, she had never hurt a creature in her life. Sure she'd made mistakes, sure she sometimes threw people off with her honesty but in general she was a considerate, caring person and she'd always hated lying and pretending and...for crying out loud...she was a good person. That was in no way justified, neither for a probably non-existent God to do that to her or for Karma striking back. She couldn't have collected so much bad Karma it would be fair to do this to her.

Michael still showed no sign of recovery, the machines kept him breathing as he remained in coma. It was highly possible that once he woke up, and he just had to wake up, the other possibility was inconsiderable for Louise, he would never be the same person again. There'd been damage to his brain, the doctors had told her. He could be disabled for the rest of his life. He could wake up a different kid. Her stomach turned at the thought, this couldn't happen. The worries about her parents and the pain of seeing her brother like this felt like a huge bundle of acid, burning every bit of her. He just had to wake up, he had to be safe and the same he'd always been. He couldn't bare it if he was turning out to be someone else. She loved him so much and she cared so much, everything hurt, everything. She wished she lay on that bed instead of him. He was such a happy guy, he'd just finally been hit with puberty and was a bit of a pain in the ass but he was funny and could be really sweet. She remembered the last time they phoned and she could still hear his exited voice from the line, telling her about how he'd been accepted to the football-team although he wasn't buff as the other guys. He was lanky, tall and skinny, like Spencer, the FBI-agent. Michael wanted to be a police-man, too. He wanted to help people.

Only know, that hot fluid ran down her face, she noticed that she had started crying again.

-Washington D.C. PD-

"What? I don't get it", Spencer was furious, "how come that isn't enough for a house search? What other evidence do you need? He could have them hidden there"

"Reid, we believe your theory, but as long as we don't get a call from him, telling us he wants that money quick, there's nothing we can do. We have no more evidence and the fact that they went to the same school and that he was reading her blog isn't enough"; Morgan said, attempting to calm him down, but it didn't work.

"This is ridiculous", he snorted and at the same time he was shocked by his own behaviour, it wasn't like him to get that wound up, "I promised their nineteen-year old daughter we would safe them"

And that was the point.

"Reid", Hotch raised his voice ever so slightly but Spencer could sense the rebuke coming crystal-clearly, "let it go. We have to wait for the call"

Spencer couldn't believe his ears, for the first time in years he disagreed with his supervisory agent, sitting and waiting around was wrong. How didn't they see it?

"Fine", he hissed, took his jacket and stormed of. He didn't care if he was startling all his team or that he wasn't acting much like himself. If they could be so hideously unreasonable, so could he. And all the time he saw Louise crying in front of his inner eye. And once again he asked himself if he'd went crazy or everybody else. Or was is because he was just too-freaking involved in this case?

He should know better than this, he thought when the cold night air hit his face and the smell of rain captured his senses for a while. It had gotten dark outside and the TV-teams had trailed off so he could make his way through the streets unmolested.

He had no idea where he was going. His sense of duty told him to hurry back to the team and stick to the orders but his anger over their decisions and some other indicator he couldn't quiet locate were pushing him on and he walked. It would start to rain soon but it didn't matter. So he'd get wet, whatever. His knee wasn't hurting now, his system was too preoccupied with everything else to notice pain if there was any. This was still so unlike him. He could virtually see JJ's worried look and Hotch's disapproving featured when he left them. Reflexively he reached for his jacket-pocket and switched off his phone, he didn't want to deal with JJ now and he knew, it was only a matter of time until she would call him.

When the first drops of rain fell down, he still wasn't bothered much, but what started with some light drops, soon turned out to be a downright cloudburst and all too soon; Spencer was soaking wet and just looking for shelter from the rain. How he could always count on his Job-esque bad luck.

With hurried steps he finally found a subway station entrance and went down. Inside it was moderately busy with many people attempting to stay dry just like him, just waiting around for the weather to get less hostile. He was too agitated to just stand there like them, he wandered around, reading every sign or add that passed his eyes. And there it was. The until now unknown force that had made him walk on.

'Line 8, last stop: The University Hospital'

This was mental, even for him, he thought but somehow his protesting head didn't stop the rest of his body to take the escalator down to the platform and getting on the next train.

What would he even say to her? He had no good news, he had no questions, he had no purpose what so ever to be there. It was just crazy but he couldn't get off the train and when he finally did it was because he'd reached his destination. His feet dragging him forward mercilessly, he found his way to the hospital and took the elevator up. It was still the same nurse that stood behind the reception desk.

"Visiting time is over, Agent Reid", she said and he was surprised she remembered his name but then again, having the FBI visiting was memorable.

"I know", he said quietly, "but it's really important that I speak to Miss Hansen again"

Okay, this wasn't Spencer Reid talking any more, some strange person had taken control, someone so attached to that poor girls fate, he wouldn't rest until she was happy again. This must have been the wackiest case in transference-feelings there'd ever been and he could do absolutely nothing to help it. It was like this young woman was a magnet, pulling him closer to her, he couldn't escape. This was so wrong, he thought again and was scared, to his own surprise. This wasn't normal, not to this extent and not if you considered that he'd only seen her once, only talked to her for about five minutes and the undeniable fact that she was so young.

But then again she was not, in a way.

_I don't see what is wrong with having values. Sure, I say I'd like to have relationship again, but why would I, attempting that, walk around the city and throw myself on top of every guy I see. I know it sounds ridiculously outworn and prude, but I'm not that kind of girl. Not that I don't see how some women find it appealing to get it on with someone they barely know and if they're fine with it, they shalt go ahead and be merry. But I consider it a matter of dignity not to be objectified for a wild night of pleasure or to objectify the guys on your part. That's not my perception of love or love-making. And I know some of you will disagree with me on that, but I think, and this has nothing to do with religious believes or some other sort of spiritual reason but simply because it's plain logic to me, I think that sex should happen between two people that sincerely care about each other. That are right for each other. Otherwise it's just the rubbing of two bodies against each other, a chain of dull chemical reactions and it means nothing in the air. And I'm screaming from experience, I've been there, I've done that and waking up the next morning, I felt the most disgusting in my life. Not because the sex was so bad but because I had given someone so important away to someone that didn't care a thing about me and that I didn't give a damn about. That's just not what I want._

Spencer recalled one of her entries perfectly. She wasn't _so_ young. Her body might was but she was not a child any more. Not because her principles were overly mature but because she was so settled in them. She had made her mind up on her own and didn't just repeat something she'd heard her girlfriends say. No, clearly Louise Hansen wasn't a little girl any more, he thought when his fingers touched the doorknob to Michaels room.

Louise jumped up at the noise from the door. She'd dozed off a while ago, not able to resist the lack of sleep and the exhaustion but now she was wide awake when she saw who her late visitor was.

"Spencer", she said and her voice was crackly from sleeping, "has anything happened? Did he call?"

She couldn't make out his facial expression because the room was so poorly lit by one small lamp near the visitors couch, she had fallen asleep on, it was impossible to see what he was going to tell her. She was prepared to leave Michael with the doctors, if she was needed to help, if they'd let her, she'd haunt that unholy bastard down herself and make him see the stars he wanted to steal her from the skies. She would just take her jacket and go wherever Spencer told him to go. She was quiet happy that he had come and not his colleague who was intimidating, plus Spencer had really seemed to care about her when she broke down before.

But then Spencer answered her questions and her hope and actionism fell apart.

"I wish I could tell you any news but...there's no news, I'm sorry"

So no call. No answers. How long would she have to wait around and watch her brother lie there half-dead before something would happen? And-

"What are you doing here then?", she really didn't mean to sound so edgy but she was frustrated and scared and tired.

"I..um...", he was stuttering again, that was quiet a habit, "I just wanted to make sure you're alright"

That was surprising her, as far as she knew it wasn't his job to see if she was fine. His job was to safe her parents but if he was here instead, this couldn't look so promising. Her world became a shade darker again.

"I'm not", she said truthfully and felt sorry for giving him the hard time, after all he only meant well.

She turned around to check on her brother again. His state hadn't changed one bit and she felt tears fighting their way to the surface again.

"How is he?", Spencer asked and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He walked towards her but kept a distance.

"Just the same, he won't wake up", she answered directing her attention at her brother again, "Komm schon, Kleiner, lass mich nicht im Stich. Bitte wach auf"

She talked to him in German because it would be ridiculous not to. They hardly ever spoke English with each other although there were both fluent having lived there for nearly four years, mostly because their mother pondered on keeping the language alive in their home. Her Mom missed Germany and speaking the language made her home-sickness go away at least a bit.

"I told him-", she started because she considered it rude to speak a language someone present didn't understand, but he was faster.

"-to wake up, to not leave you here alone". Spencer said quietly, "I know a bit of German and a couple of other languages"

"You're some kind of genius?", she asked because she didn't know what else to comment on that and she really wanted to keep the conversation going, happy about any company and distraction she was offered.

"Some people think me one", he said as if it was just a normal thing and not something to be smug about, "I have an eidetic memory and I can read 20.000 words per minute, I have three degrees in Maths, Chemistry and Engineering and a BA in Psychology and Sociology"

Everyone else would have sounded like a show-off but he made it sound as if it was no bit special.

"How old are you?", for a split second curiosity took hold of her. She's always been curious but somehow everything she'd once been slid through her fingers once she got that phone call, reporting her parents missing.

"I'm twenty-seven", he answered and she just had to get a closer look at him.

"You don't look twenty-seven", she announced when she stood opposite him, "You look twenty-three"

"Thanks", he pursed his lips.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to...", she had no idea what she hadn't meant to, "well, think of the good side, when you're forty and look like mid thirties, you'll be glad"

"I just wouldn't have thought you were nearly ten years older than me, although I did wonder what you were doing with the FBI", she added.

She noticed his mouth twitch for whatever reason when she talked about their age difference and she wondered why. Also she wondered how she could be that much of a horrible person, in her situation, under these circumstances, finding him cute. She hated herself even more now but she couldn't help adoring his sculpted high cheeks and the perfect jaw line and the cutest nose she'd ever seen. His eyes had dark shadows underneath and some extra pounds surely couldn't do harm on him but he was still one of the most attractive men she'd seen in her life, despite the fact he looked a bit like a living dead. But she did, too with her dead girl's paleness.

_You're the devil_, she thought in disgust, How could she even think about that now? How could she imagine his exquisite lips on hers? Her parents were held hostage by a madman and she was to blame for it, her brother would maybe wake up a crippled vegetable and she thought about kissing a guy she barely knew that was, on top of it all almost ten years older than her.

"What's wrong?", Spencer asked her softly as he probably noticed her features wobbling from her inner tirade.

"Nothing", she lied, "I'm pretty messed up" This was the absolute truth.

They stood there in silence for a moment and just stared at each other, both clueless what to do or say, when a nurse ended their private awkward moment by entering the room.

"Agent Reid?", she said with her raspy cigarette voice, "I have an Agent Morgan on the phone, he says I should tell you that they got the call, he said, you'd know what it is"

Louise's and Spencer's heads snapped up simultaneously.

"Tell him I'm on my way", he said to the nurse who left, rolling her eyes, obviously annoyed by the out-of-order-visit. She should go screw herself, Louise thought spiteful, this was important.

She looked back to Spencer, wondering why he wasn't on his heels already, looking for her parents., to be fair, he was showing signs of an attempted exit, but something held him back.

"When the time comes, will you help me on this?", he asked. She had no idea what he was talking about but anyway-

"Yes", she replied.

"It's going to be alright", he said and then, ever so lightly, his skin as soft as silk, his perfect man's hand squeezed hers.

_You're a horrible person_, Louise's inner voice yelled with rage as her heart tripped at the touch and then Spencer left her alone with the buzzing machines and her comatose brother. She couldn't blame her.


	5. All Things Changed

**Author's note: **Okay, so I've given it a lot of thought, what dodgers said in a later review, about Spencer being out of character with the whole falling in love thing and I tried to work that into the story, the whole last paragraph evolves around that. Please, if you've read so far, you must've enjoyed it at least a bit, so help me out...does it make sense this way? When you look at the last part of this chapter, does it feel right that Reid would feel and act this way? Please tell me what you think, it will be highly helpful and very very much appreciated! Thank You!

**THE BLOG**

**Chapter Five**

**All Things Changed**

-Washington D.C. PD-

Gladly the rain in Washington had stopped, so at least Spencer wasn't soaking wet when he got back to the Police Department. He already knew what was coming, when he walked through the wide open glass doors and saw his team in their specially set up room, all staring at the phone on the table. He saw Emily nodding at Hotch into his direction and his boss understood, looked up and spotted him. His face was one solid sculpture of dissatisfaction.

Spencer entered the room, bracing himself for Hotch's reaction to his great exit from before. He didn't seem to go easy on him.

"Reid, your behaviour was unacceptable", he said firmly, "this won't happen again, are we clear on that?"

"Yes", he replied and felt like a ten-year-old that's been caught stealing treats. Hotch was right, he was being stupid to separate from the team and they had all right to be negatively surprised, after all he'd surprised himself a great lot by going back to the hospital again. It wasn't like him to do such things. Spencer Reid was responsible, not reckless, he was deliberate, not acting on a whim. He felt like someone had just took his personality and swirled it, turned it into something else and he had the faint suspicion that someone was Louise.

It was the blog, having read it from start to end, he was tricked to think he knew her to the bones, he had such a deep understanding of her, it was impossible not to be affected. But that hadn't been his fault, had it? He was supposed to read it. Great, he thought, but you haven't been supposed to fall for it. How can someone fall in love with a blog page anyway? He had an IQ of 187, he was smarter than that, damned!

"The unsub called 991, announcing he was the abductor of Mr. and Mrs. Hansen and he wanted to call with the responsible people to make the 'transaction' as he posed it. We expect him to call again any second, they'll put him through to us once he does", Emily said and ended Spencer's inner monologue, making him focus on the important things again.

"Could the call be located?", he asked, "Is it Ralph?"

"It's a safe phone", Morgan stated and gave him a shrug meaning 'sorry'.

"Where did he get a safe-", Reid thought out loud but this very second, the little device on the table started ringing with a high tune. Automatically the air changed, suspense rose just like a handful police-men that put their noses through the doors.

Hotch signalised that he would pick up the phone and the rest of the team nodded.

"Agent Aaron Hotchner", he said.

"It's him again, I told him I'll forward him to you", a female voice said uneasy.

"Thank you", Hotch replied and the line clicked twice.

"Hello?", a male voice; an insecure male voice. The unsub was unsure, scared which matched Ralph's preliminary profile, Spencer thought slightly triumphant.

"I'm here", Hotch said, "this is Agent Hotchner with the FBI and you want to talk to me about releasing the German Ambassador and his wife"

"I want the money in a sealed bag, 80 Million in cash and no one gets hurt and I want my pirate princess, she should...yeah, she should bring me the money", he sounded as if he was just coming up with a plan, he was clearly disorganized now. Spencer had estimated he would be. He was prepared to get Mr. Hansen and his wife out of the house and did that with great precision but once he had them under his sway he lost it. That also explained what he did to Michael, he knew he needed him out of concisions but he didn't plan how, so he just pummelled him senseless.

Spencer reached out for a writing pad and a pencil, scrambled 'LOUISE' on it and pointed it to Hotch.

"I don't know if Louise can do that", he said and the unsub hesitated, holding his breath at the revelation that they knew who his pirate princess was.

"It needs to be her, I'm not giving the money to anybody else", he said after a while, raising his volume.

"But how could she trust you? She has no way to defend herself from you, she doesn't know you", Hotch answered.

"I would never hurt her, she knows that, tell her I'll take care of her", he said stubbornly.

"But she doesn't know you", Hotch repeated.

"That's not true", he yelled and everyone jumped, "she can not forget me, she can't...she _may_ not, forget about Ralph, tell her that"

The line was dead.

Spencer stood straight and pinned down Hotchner with his looks. He'd been right.

"Slow, Reid", he said, "it could be a trick, a disguise, but it's enough to raid his house, me, Morgan and Emily are going. You stay here in case he calls again"

The next twenty minutes were nerve-wrecking, Spencer just hoped that Ralph was really the unsub and that his colleagues could take him down and safe Louise's parents so that he could go home and be himself again. But when Emily called, the news weren't so good.

"We've got him, he was absolutely not prepared to see us, but he's got a safe phone, we're pretty sure it's him but he was alone in his apartment. He says he hid the Hansens but he's not telling us where. He still wants the money and he still wants Louise to give it to him. We're bringing him over"

--

Ralph Beckett was a pudgy, short little man in his twenties and he didn't look like he could hurt a fly but his eyes spoke of madness and obsession. He sat in the interrogation room and Spencer kept scanning him for mannerisms implying a current psychosis. His fingers had a tremor whenever he reached for something and he kept running them through his hair. Hotch was sitting at the table opposite him and posed question after question Ralph left unanswered. After a while Hotch got up and left the room.

When he joined Spencer, Rossi and Morgan outside, in the little cabin that allowed view of the interrogation room by a one-way mirror, he looked frustrated.

"He's not talking", he said with his grave-voice, "I've tried everything, he won't speak"

"He would speak to Louise", Spencer said.

"We can't get her in there with him", Hotch objected, still angry at his young agent, "Look how unstable he is"

"She would want to", Spencer continued unimpressed, "and I think she's the only one to get through to him"

Hotch looked at him for a while, his lips a thin line and then he finally sighed.

"We'll try, but the second he only raises one eyebrow too many we're getting her out of there", he ordered, "go pick her up, then, Reid"

A moment later he caught the car keys, his boss had thrown at him. Great, he hated driving but he'd just might as well get over it. If they wanted to break Ralph's silence, Louise was the only way to do it. It was a quarter to ten when he drove off from the underground garage and headed north to the hospital.

-University Hospital-

When he arrived, he found the same nurse utterly surprised at his third visit of the day and she was even more unhappy about it this time.

"Go ahead", she grunted. Spencer didn't see what she was so upset about but he wouldn't worry about that now.

For the third time he stood in front of Michaels room, but this time knocked to not startle Louise whom he supposed to be asleep. He was just right to do so as he heard her sleepy voice call from inside: "Yes, enter please"

Carefully he stepped in and found her surprised with his newly visit as well.

"Spencer", she said and then immediately got up from the couch, "what did he say, did you find my parents? I didn't expect you back so fast"

"Er...", how was he going to tell her this?, "it's best if you would sit down"

Her face changed from alert to devastated and he know his choice of words had been wrong.

"No, no, no no no, you're not telling me...", her voice broke and her arms started going up and down. It took Spencer a second to react, a second of guilt to upset her like this.

"No", he almost yelled to make himself clear and went over to her, grabbed her hands and held them tightly, pulling them to his body to fasten his grip. She was not having it and she was strong, though she didn't break free from him, she still managed to punch his chest, trying to loose his hands around hers.

"No, Louise", she wasn't listening, she was crying soundly, still mumbling 'no, no, no'. He'd of course seen people react like that but normally he didn't have to deal with it from that close and she really was close, he could almost smell her tears and the drying blood on her lips. She was constantly biting her lips open, he'd noticed before but now he could see that her bottom lip was actually bleeding. He needed her to listen, he wouldn't be able to hold on to her much longer. If he'd been Morgan he could have held her right in place for hours, a bitter sting of uncommon jealousy flushed through him.

"Louise", he tried again but his voice was nearly a whisper, he wasn't even sure if she heard him, "Louise" - a little louder this time but she was still pushing him.

"LOUISE", he jumped at the sound of his own voice, it had been a while since he'd screamed like that last, maybe he'd never ever screamed like that but it did the job, she was quiet momentarily, holding both her breath and her place. She didn't move any more, she just stared at him.

"I'm sorry", he whispered again to calm her and to keep the nagging nurse from invading, "you're parents aren't dead, as far as we can say" She looked puzzled, one last tear running down her cheeks.

"But you told me to sit", she said confused, not bothering to loosen her grasp on his pullover, she had sometime through their little struggle grabbed it and hadn't let go of it yet.

"I know but I didn't...um", it couldn't be so hard, now, could it?, "as far as we know they're not dead but we have no idea where they are"

"That's no new information", she stated slowly calming down but starting to seem more annoyed than irritating. Did she think he was just wasting her time again?

"I know but...we have Ralph", he revealed and watched her jaw drop, "You were right about him, he abducted them and he knows where they are but he won't tell us"

"I'll talk to him", she said determined, all awake now and still holding on to him. He'd known she would want to, he thought, she was proactive and she felt responsible.

"That's why I'm here", he admitted and at that her eyes widened again in surprise.

"You'll let me?", she looked stunned.

"I'm afraid you're the only one he _will_ talk to", Spencer said truthfully and her face changed from slightly triumphant to afraid again as it doomed on her that she was going to the person who's taken her parents and beat up her brother ready for hospital, "we're with you, I will talk you through, it will be alright"

"I know", she said immediately and he knew she could take it but never the less she was scared. Her eyes spoke a language of their own and they said she was frightened and insecure and afraid and...alone. She probably felt like the loneliest person on earth.

Finally he loosened his grip around her wrists, expecting her to let go all the same but she didn't. She just kept starring at him, terrified.

"It will be alright, I'm with you", he said again because he felt he needed to and before he closed his mouth again he felt her push herself onto him, locking her arms around his body, her hot face buried on is chest. She was so little. For a moment he had no idea what to do, all his thoughts mingled in one crazy vortex he couldn't pull apart, his arms were floating in the air, unsure if he should, if he was allowed to pay back her hug but then he knew he could not _not_ hug her back. She needed the support and after all he felt this throbbing urge to hold her again and with her already flung around him, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist even if he'd tried to.

Slowly his arms found their way to her, he didn't dare to pull her much closer than she already was, his hands rested lightly on her back.

For some heartbeats that felt like eternity they just stood there. This was so wrong. He was using her trust to satisfy his own needs, needs he wasn't used to having, needs that weren't _his_ as far as he knew. He hadn't felt this way, not this precise way, before, it was a longing, a desire and one that felt so rightful it had to be wrong. He wasn't supposed to be that involved, to hell with the fact that he practically knew her in and out, it shouldn't be causing him these twisted weird feelings.

She trusted him, she needed him to be fair to her, to do his job right, she counted on that, he should let her go, he had to loose this attachment to her, he couldn't be allowing himself these feelings. She was a victim of a crime and he was an agent with the FBI, she was nineteen years old and he was almost thirty, this was so wrong. It resounded in his head again and again but his body didn't follow orders. It sort of had made this a habit, acting on its own demands. Spencer started to wonder if it was true what his mother had told him when he was only a child and asked her about...when he had asked her about...love.

"You know, Spencer, there is someone out there for everyone of us, someone right. That's what people call 'the one'. 'The one' is the one person that will turn everything around; you will want to spent your life with that one person, the one person that can make you smile on a day where everything else went wrong, the one person that will make you want to hold her tightly or the rest of her life just to keep her safe", she'd said.

"How would one know when one met the one?", he'd asked sceptically as he saw an image popping up in his head with people being sorted up in pairs, each one sorted into a box with their 'one'.

"You will know when it happens", she answered and gave him one of her lately rare smiles, "you will feel it, sooner or later. Some people can tell the first second they see her or him and some people find out later. With your father I knew immediately, the second I saw him, it's like...gravitation, like...magnetism, it's a strong force...it can change everything in a second. Believe me, when the time comes, you will know"

Twenty-seven year old Spencer wondered now, some things she'd said completely applied. More than the instant attraction that he had experienced before because it was only human, with Louise he had momentarily felt compassionate, committed, weirdly linked to her as if she was miraculously an extension of his own being. But it made no sense, it was far away from any logic that he'd almost felt confirmed reading her blog later. Some dim voice in the back of his head had said 'I knew...I knew she would be like that, I knew she would be a good person'. It had only seemed weird before but with the words of his mother in the back of his head it sort of fell in to place. He'd seen her and everything had changed. He had become a different person, impulsive, driven, so different to the person he knew himself to be. He had never considered himself a love-at-first-sight person, he'd never believed to be an in-love-person at all. He didn't even believe in love at first sight, it was impossible. It was all chemistry, a chain-reaction and it took so much time, so much _more_ time and more talking, more getting-to-know-each-other to fall in love, didn't it? And when it happened it was supposed to feel convenient, not meant to be, at least in his perception. It wasn't supposed to feel like the other one could literally touch your soul. But then she could in a way, with every letter he read of her thoughts in her blog, he felt like she'd spoken directly to him. Could it be? Could his mother have been right after all? But how could she? This was real life, logic must've applied here, all the talk about 'the one' wasn't logic at all. Fate. It was all fate-talk, and fate was just an excuse to make for things humans didn't understand. Spencer Reid didn't believe in fate, he couldn't get his head around the idea that all his weird behaviour should be due to some fairytale-like illusion he fell under because he'd met some girl. But then why would he be like that, why would he be doing what he was doing and feeling how he felt? He used to believe in facts. But he also didn't understand what was happening to him and that...well, that was a fact as well.

"You'll be with me?", Louise asked now, speaking about the interrogation of course and putting an end to his mingled thoughts and worries.

"Always", he answered and his heart skipped a few beats as he realised how doomingly true that was. How much he wanted to be with her always. Even after all this was over.


End file.
